


The Snake

by IsaacTheGreat69



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Deceit’s human name isn’t used just a nickname, Descriptions of blood and injury, Human AU, Injured Character, Racism, Racist comments, Villain Deceit, descriptions of a fight/physical assault, unsympathetic Deceit, virgil and roman are twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaacTheGreat69/pseuds/IsaacTheGreat69
Summary: Roman goes to Logan in his time of need after a run-in with an old acquaintance.





	The Snake

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by @philspinkyfinger on Tumblr. Thank you!!! <3<3
> 
> If you wanna support me by commissioning me, just message me on Tumblr (preferably) @dr-gloom or on here!

Roman’s breath comes out shaky and harsh on every breath as he hobbles towards the front door. His hand grips his side, but it’s probably doing more harm than good. He honestly can’t tell; the gash along his ribs had gone numb about ten minutes ago. Somewhere in the back of his mind Roman thinks he remembers Logan calling that “shock”, but he’s probably just making that up. Just like he does everything else. His confidence, his smiles, his intelligence, other people’s opinions of him. 

_ He walks down the sidewalk as the sun’s going down, heading home from play rehearsals. It’s a nice day; not too hot, and there’s a decent breeze. There are a few people walking along the street, but more cars since not everyone wants to brave any kind of heat. Roman can respect that. Not everyone has his heat tolerance.  _

_ Roman hears more than sees some of the guys from his school exit a store he’d just passed. Their loud, obnoxious laughter permeates the early evening air and breaks off his thoughts, making his lips twitch into a frown. Honestly, it was too late in the day for them to be this loud, people were trying to maintain an inner monologue! He hikes the strap of his backpack up his shoulder and speeds up a little; the sooner he’s away from them, the better. _

_ But then, it seems they had other ideas. One of them must recognize Roman because they call out to him, telling him to wait up. Roman pauses for a moment because he doesn’t quite recognize the voice, but it isn’t that strange seeing as he’s pretty well-known in their school. He turns around with a characteristic grin, barely managing to keep the surprise off his face at who he sees. _

He stumbles up the two steps onto the front porch only for the tip of his shoe to catch on the wood and cause him to stumble. Rather than catching himself, Roman gives in and sits down on the step to catch his breath. He’d just walked almost two miles, after all. He feels he deserves the break. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he closes his eyes, leaning against one of the railing posts. He tries to take deeper breaths now that he’s not moving, but- oh, yep, he can feel  _ that _ . Maybe he’s not in shock after all.

_ Roman takes deep breaths through his nose as he stares at the all too familiar face. The two goons at  _ His  _ sides are unfamiliar but also unimportant.  _ He  _ smirks at Roman as they catch up to him. “Well, if it isn’t Roman Sanders. Been a while, how’s your brother?” The two asses at  _ His  _ side snicker. Roman clenches his fists in the pockets of his varsity jacket.  _

_ “Ay, what was the little freak’s name again? Vag? Virgin?” More snickering. Roman grits his teeth. _

_ “It’s  _ Virgil _ . But you don’t get to speak his name. Not after the shit you pulled.” _

He  _ steps forward, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you think I did, Sanders?” _

Roman tenses as the front door opens behind him. “-me know if you need- wha- Roman?” Roman grimaces and turns to face the voice, looking up into the confused face of Logan Abbott, best friend and huge flaming crush. Logan’s expression is quickly warping from confusion to worry though as his brain finally catches up with him and he processes what he’s actually seeing. He tosses his book bag and keys onto the porch couch and rushes to Roman’s side, crouching down to be more level with his beaten face. 

_ “You know what you did, you… you… hijo de las mil putas*,” Roman spits, rage boiling in his gut.  _ He  _ scowls, getting in Roman’s face. _

_ “You better speak fucking English you Press Two, or I might think you’re disrespecting me.” _

_ Roman sneers, “Vete a freír espárragos**,” before spitting in  _ His  _ face. _

_ Roman hadn’t even seen them move, but before he could blink  _ His  _ friends were holding Roman’s arms tightly. Roman thrashes in their grips, grunting with frustration when it doesn’t budge.  _ He  _ makes a disgusted face, wiping the spit off and wiping it off on  _ His  _ pants.  _ He  _ looks Roman over as he continues to struggle, contempt bleeding from  _ His  _ expression.  _

He  _ looks between  _ His  _ friends, and the smirk  _ He  _ gives them makes Roman’s blood run cold, the fight draining out of him for a second. _

_ “What’d’ya say we… make America great again, boys?” _

_ The first hit makes Roman’s head snap back, his vision full of stars. _

Roman can’t meet Logan’s eyes, at first. He feels a strange, misplaced sense of guilt and shame that keeps his gaze locked on the slight downward tilt of Logan’s lips. Logan reaches out and Roman flinches, backing up so fast his back smacks into the railing post he’d been leaning on. In an instant Logan is leaning back, putting his hands up in surrender. It takes Roman a moment to realize he’d brought his fists up and was breathing a little too quickly, and another moment before he can lower them and calm himself. 

Logan studies him carefully. “... Do you think you can stand?”

_ The two nobodies were holding Roman in place as  _ He  _ drove  _ His  _ fist into Roman’s stomach. Roman coughs as the breath is knocked out of him, losing his footing, and now the two gripping his arms are the only thing keeping him vertical.  _ He  _ continues to punch Roman’s face and abdomen, spitting insults Roman can barely hear past the ringing in his ears and the pain blossoming from his face and torso.  _

He  _ says something and suddenly Roman is let go, falling to the sidewalk. He barely manages to catch himself to prevent himself from eating cement, and almost immediately a foot is digging into his stomach. Roman wheezes, going limp. He curls into himself, wrapping his arms around his head and pulling his knees up to his chest. Feet stomp on his shoulder, back, hips, thighs, stomach, chest, head. They’re all talking as they beat him, no doubt spitting insults and witty quips falling on deaf ears. It feels like an eternity before it stops. _

Logan slowly reaches out again and wraps an arm around Roman, helping him to his feet slowly. Once he’s standing, Logan brings Roman’s arm over his shoulders and slowly helps him into the house. Roman’s blood is soaking into Logan’s shirt, but the bleeding is slowing down. What Logan is most concerned about is how Roman is shivering - he doubts the other has even noticed - and how bad his breathing sounds. He slowly leads Roman to the couch and lowers him to sit on it, his heart tugging at the pained grimace that flashes across the other teen’s face. He gets up to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

_ Roman slowly lowers his arms and looks up, thinking it’s over. Instead, the two cronies grab his arms again and force him to his feet, though he barely has the strength to stand.  _ He  _ reaches into  _ His  _ pocket and pulls out a switchblade, and Roman’s eyes widen. He thrashes weakly in the other two guys’ grip, but it doesn’t do anything except cause him more pain.  _ He  _ smirks, pressing the blade against Roman’s cheek. “Learn your lesson yet, Spic?”  _

_ Roman snarls and uses his last bit of strength to kick  _ Him  _ as hard as he can.  _ He  _ lets out a cry that’s more angry and outraged than in pain, pulling  _ His  _ arm back and bringing it down, cutting into Roman’s ribcage and leaving a deep slash that instantly starts to bleed, red soaking into his dirty white shirt. Roman screams in pain, and one of  _ His  _ friends swears and lets go of Roman’s arm. With only one person trying to hold him up, he falls to his knees, his now free hand going to his side. He raises his hand weakly to his face, feeling dizzy at the sight of blood.  _

His  _ other friend lets go of him and they all run. Roman falls onto his stomach, taking wheezing breaths and trying to get himself to get up. Logan. He has to see Logan. _

_ The sun had gone down by the time he hauls himself to his feet. _

Logan sits on the coffee table and slowly reaches out to hold Roman’s chin, tilting his head this way and that to assess the damage. He takes in the blossoming bruises, scratches and dried blood, the ground-in dirt and tiny pieces of sidewalk. His mouth twitches into a frown and he gets to work cleaning Roman’s face. Roman hisses and winces when Logan drags a peroxide-soaked cotton ball over a scrape on his cheek and Logan mutters an apology. He pauses after a moment, thumbing away a bit of blood near Roman’s mouth. The look on his face makes Roman nervous, though he isn’t sure why. Logan catches Roman’s gaze for the first time since he found him on the porch, fury evident in his gaze, his body tense. “Who did this to you?”

Roman sucks in a shaky breath before replying.

“Kaa.”

**Author's Note:**

> *son of a thousand whores
> 
> **go boil some asparragus (basically means “fuck you”)


End file.
